Taking Trish Part 2
Malefic (calibros@aol.com)

Upon entering the room several hours later, Trish's captor immediately
noticed the change in the air. Gone was the mustiness that had permeated
the atmosphere, replaced now with a sickly sweet aroma that could only be
described as arousal, or the scent of a woman.

His victim sat where he had left her, still bound within the chair but
apparently her reactions had been somewhat animated and the torturous
instrument sat several feet from where it had begun. Her head sagged limply
upon her chest, hair disheveled beyond recognition. She looked beat, barely
moving as he approached her from behind, his fingers trailing over the tops
of her breasts, noticing with some distaste that her clothing was completely
soaked with sweat.

Well, not all of it actually. Where the vibrator had been left emanated the
strongest, most pungent odor yet and he noted with some distaste that she
had soiled herself doubly, as well as creaming from the intense orgasms
caused by the sex tool buried within her. Pulling a latex glove from his
pocket, he unlocked the portion of the chair binding her and pulled the top
of her tights down, removing the dildo from her vagina. The end of the tool
was blackened as if it had overheated and he chuckled, realizing that Trish's
only salvation had been outlasting the vicious little toy. Her scent fairly
radiated from it, and he placed it carefully in a plastic bag, intending to
use it again later, should it be needed.

Pocketing the instrument he peeled the glove off and pushed Trish's head up
to meet his gaze. Her once vibrant blue eyes were glazed with exhaustion now,
and the outside of her mouth was caked with spittle, a testament to the
ordeal she had undergone.

"Tsk, tsk, Ms. Stratus. It appears you had some difficulty controlling
yourself in this experiment. Now I shall have to clean you up a bit before
the next step in your education."

For once the proud bitch offered no rebukes and he knew he had her well on
her way to servitude. With an almost gentle touch he caressed the side of
her face, bending to lightly brush his lips across her forehead. He could
feel her stiffen beneath him and he grinned, knowing she still had some
fight left in her, but also that his dominance was inevitable. She would
bend to his will soon enough, and serve him faithfully, but he intended to
wring as much suffering out of her as she was willing to endure, before her
assured compliance. He turned and left the room then, retrieving the items
that he would need to first cleanse her body, and then dominate her soul.

Nearly an hour later she lay on her back in a grungy, tiled room. Her hands
had been bound together again with electrical tape and a bondage collar was
placed around her neck, a chain securing her to a nearby drain in the floor.
Needless to say, she was going nowhere. He had already peeled her tight
latex top from her body and was even now stripping her of the soiled tights.
He wore a pair of latex gloves, and, after removing her pants, balled them
up and placed them in a trash bag he had brought with him.

"I don't think you'll be needing those again dear. Or those panties for that
matter. "

He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the image of her once lovely red thong,
now soiled beyond recognition with both cum and excrement. Producing a pair
of scissors he quickly cut the straps and pulled it from her body, tossing
it in the bag holding her tights. Her bra soon followed suit, the straps
severed and removed, and, for the first time he was treated to the vision
of loveliness that was Trish Stratus's naked form.

Her breasts were huge, round mammaries of enticing flesh and he could feel
the stirrings of desire deep within his loins. Coupled with a fine, taut
stomach and a temptingly trimmed gash she was truly a goddess, however soiled
she might be. Speaking of that, lifting the hose he turned the water on full
blast and stood back at a safe distance, dousing her completely with the ice
cold water. Her mouth dropped open in shock and she tried in vain to protect
herself from the powerful stream of chill liquid, raising her arms to cover
her chest. It was all to no avail, as the frigid blast affected her deeply,
hardening her nipples to rigid points, drenching her still swollen lips
fully. Soon she was fully cleansed, the excrement flushed from her body and
making it's descent down the drains.

He twisted the nozzle off and regarded her for a moment, admiring the sensual
image she presented, water dripping from each hardened nipple, and a cleansed
moistness glistening in the inviting fur of her bush. Her hair hung wet
against her shoulders and her body was rocked with uncontrollable shivers in
the chill of the already cold basement.

Briefly he toyed with the idea of leaving her here overnight, but quickly
discarded that thought when he realized she would probably catch an illness.
So, mere moments later he walked along the labyrinthine corridors of the
cellar, Trish firmly in tow, being led along by the collar and leash. He
carried the taser as protection, in case she decided to resist, but so far
she had done naught but shiver uncontrollably.

They climbed a steep set of wooden stairs, her feet warmed by the coarse
material and finally came to a stop outside a heavy oaken door. Yanking her
lead, he roughly pulled her into the room and tossed a coarse towel to her.
As she busied herself blotting the excess liquid from her body he opened
some drawers in a nearby bureau and threw a pile of clothing on the bed.

"Get dressed."

The command was simple and she quickly did so, even though the top was too
small for her, and the pants, though spandex, much too tight. The effects of
her snug clothing were evident but she was still glad to have it, and be out
of his lecherous, wandering gaze.

"Well, what shall we do next? A little S&M perhaps? Are you into pain at
all? Maybe I should invite a few fellows over for a gang-bang? Or would you
rather I just tie you down, coat your cunt in honey and let the dogs in?"

"Get fucked you sick freak!"

Her response was immediate, planting her foot and throwing a fast roundhouse
kick directly at his head. It was a beautiful move, executed perfectly but
he was more than ready for it.

Stepping back slightly and ducking his head out of her swing, he grabbed her
ankle as it swept by and twisted cruelly. With her hands still bound as they
were, she was caught off-balance and fell hard to her knees. Tipping forward
onto her face she struggled to control her descent and, after getting one
foot under her, spun around in a makeshift shoulder charge, hoping to collide
hard with her captor.

To her surprise he wasn't where she thought he would be, and as she went
barreling past, he simultaneously tripped her and yanked down forcibly on
her collar chain, slamming her face first into the all too solid floor.
This time he did not allow her to get back up and leapt upon her, yanking
fiercely on her hair, all of his weight placed squarely on the small of her
back.

The pain was excruciating and she screamed aloud, the sound cutting off
suddenly as a strange object was shoved mercilessly into her mouth and held
there while being taped into place. The object had gone deep, scraping the
back of her throat and her gag reflex began, causing her to choke and cough.
The taste was horrible and in absolute shock she recognized it as the
vibrator that had spent so much time in her cunt earlier! She struggled
vainly to dislodge the object but her captor simply rolled her onto her back
and pinned her arms down above her head.

Terrified she stared into his eyes, her own pleading silently with him to
free her but he merely laughed at her, leaning down to lick slowly up the
side of her face, as if tasting her fear. Holding her arms down with one
hand he produced a rag from his pocket and placed it firmly over her mouth
and nose. Almost instantly the room began to spin before Trish's eyes and
she felt herself drifting into unconsciousness.

Later, she awoke to find that the clothing she had previously worn had been
removed and she now wore something like what she wore in the ring, consisting
of latex tights covering her fine ass, and a matching latex top holding her
enormous breasts in place. She noticed a few more things immediately as well.
First, she was on her knees, and her arms were tied behind her back in a
solid leather bondage sleeve. The pressure on her shoulder blades was immense
as the ring attached to the end of the vile contraption had been secured by
chain to another ring somewhere on the ceiling. Simply raising her body would
have lessened this effect but she found that she could not, as the collar she
still wore had been attached to a ring in the floor.

"Ahh, it's about time you woke up. I was beginning to wonder about you."

She directed her eyes to the sound of his voice and gazed with murderous
intent at him. He sat in a chair a few feet before her, wearing what looked
to be in ring attire as well, and held a cruel looking leather whip in his
hand. He caught her gaze and flicked his wrist casually, causing the end
of the whip to crack violently off the stone floor near her. She flinched
despite herself, and the move sent pain shooting through her already
tortured shoulder blades.

"Aaaaauuuuuggghghh!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and rough, an
after-effect of the chloroform used earlier.

"Awww, poor baby! Your thirsty! Well, don't worry- you'll soon have some
liquid to clear that parched throat."

He stood from his chair and walked around behind her, and, placing one foot
solidly on the back of her neck pressed down. Weakened as she was, her
shoulders dipped forward and her arms were wrenched further back increasing
the pressure on her already tortured body.

Oblivious to her outcries he continued, "I have decided to give you a chance
Ms. Stratus. We shall solve our differences in the ring. If you can defeat
me, you will be free to go- however, if I beat you, you'll be mine forever."

"I..I'll never be yours," she said, the pain causing her breath to come
ragged and short.

"Now, now- Don't say that, my dear. It may not sound like much now, but I
can assure you that you will enjoy being my slave."

She found the pain lessening and her arms mercifully dropped to rest against
her back. He led her to a makeshift ring, made up with chain link fence to
resemble a cage. Her muscles were like jello, and she allowed herself to be
pushed into the ring, stumbling over the ropes in the process. Quickly her
captor locked the door leading in and removed her bonds, tossing them over
the ropes.

She rubbed her arms, trying to get the blood flowing and some feeling back
when he spoke.

"Remember, beat me, and you are free. Lose, and well, prepare to be broken.
Ding, ding."

With those words the match was on and he began his approach, circling her
slowly, as if he was feeling out her defense. She slipped easily into the
match, observing his stance, analyzing his approach. This was her home, and
where she felt most comfortable. She may have been surprised before, but now
she was ready for him.

Suddenly he lunged forward, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms
around her legs. Surprised at the move, she struggled to hop back and free
herself but he held on, picking her up and driving her forcibly backwards
into the ring post.

"Whoof!"

The impact drove the air from her lungs and he continued his assault,
driving his shoulder into her midsection time and time again. Grabbing her
arm he pulled her from the corner and whipped her to the other side, but
she held on and reversed it, sending him to connect solidly with the corner
posts! Stunned he staggered forward and she connected solidly with a vicious
roundhouse kick to his temple, knocking him down and out of the ring.

She took advantage of the moment and exited the ring quickly, approaching the
door and attempting to open it, but he had locked it with a massive padlock
and apparently hidden the key. Looking up she realized the only way out would
be over the top and was about to place a foot in the links of the chain when
she was pulled from the door and thrown bodily into the steel steps behind.

Crashing off the solid steel she landed on her hands and knees and caught a
vicious kick to her midsection that flipped her onto her back. He reached
down and pulled her to her feet, rolling her back into the ring. As she
struggled back to her feet he grabbed the ropes and climbed back into the
ring, only to be met with a quick but well-placed drop kick that put him on
the mat. As soon as he landed she was on him, kicking and stomping at him
furiously and he raised his arms to defend himself. Several of the vicious
kicks got through and opened up his forehead, blood beginning to well at
the cut and leak from him.

A quick spinning sweep took her legs out from under her and he climbed to
his feet even as she did, whipping him into the ropes as he lunged for her.
Rebounding back he ducked under a spinning roundhouse kick, and, springing
back from the opposite ropes connected with a powerful spear that took them
both through the ropes and out of the ring.

She landed hard, the breath knocked out of her and was slow to rise, the
atrophy of the past few hours torment winding her more than she thought. As
she turned she caught his attack out of the corner of her eye and ducked to
the side, the kendo stick that had been aimed for her head bouncing off the
ropes and back into her attackers face. He staggered  backwards into the
cage, and she grabbed his hair, shaking him back and forth along the cruel
barbs tearing his face open even more. Blood flowed freely now and she threw
him back into the ring, confident of her victory now.

Her eyes alighted on the kendo stick and she picked it up, a cruel smile
lighting her face. Yes, she would win, but not before she hurt him.

Sliding into the ring on her stomach she could see him trying to escape under
the ropes on the far side and she tackled him, leaning out through the ropes
to pull him back inside. Without warning an aluminum trash can lid bashed her
full in the face and she fell back into the ring, stunned.

She struggled to her feet as quickly as she could and, wielding the kendo
stick, turned around just in time to catch a vicious chair shot full in the
face! Her weapon went flying and she was laid out on her back, limbs fully
splayed from the force of the shot.

"I always, (huff, huff), always wanted ...to do that. "

He was breathing hard, blood clouding his vision and swaying a tad unsteadily
on his feet, but he was smiling as he watched Trish try to recover. She stood
slowly, turning towards him with a glazed look in her eyes, and he swung
again, connecting solidly, dropping her hard to her back. He noticed with
some satisfaction that she now had been busted open as well, blood flowing
from both her forehead and lip.

He reversed the chair, driving the rounded edge into her toned midsection and
she curled into a fetal position beneath him. Tossing the chair out of the
ring, he reached down and pulled her a standing position. As she stood there,
swaying, she felt like her limbs were growing heavier, and air was coming
harder and harder into her lungs. When she dropped to her knees, sitting back
on her feet and clutching her throat he laughed, leaning back on the ropes
for support.

"Stupid bitch. You didn't think I would fight fair did you?"

Placing the tip of his shoe on her chest he pushed and she fell onto her
back, limbs flopping uselessly to the mat. Her mouth gaped open, trying to
pull air in but she was too weak. As she lay there, too weak to move he
stood over her, looking down into her eyes.

"Tell me Trish- are you familiar with the drug curare? No? Let me inform you
then- it's a poison, used by the South American tribes. It works by attacking
the upper respiratory system, and instilling a sense of numbness throughout
the body. It is highly toxic and can be ingested, introduced to the
bloodstream through darts, or, as in this case, absorbed directly through the
skin. It causes death by asphyxiation, as you have no doubt noticed it's
effects. I am sure your having some trouble breathing. The interesting thing
about it is it doesn't stop your heart from beating, so you'll be aware of
everything until you finally pass out. Now, the good news is it is treatable,
and, I can save you. But I will need something from you in return, and I
think you know what that is. So what do you say Trish? Death or...endless
pleasure? The choice is yours."

He stood there over her for many long moments, staring down at her, a
triumphant smile on his face. She thought fast, the drug coursing through her
system, and her breathing slowed to dangerous levels. Death or servitude? She
closed her eyes, a tear leaking from the corner to trail slowly down her
cheek.

She really didn't have much choice, and with nearly all the strength she had
left she nodded, gazing tearfully into his eyes. The room was absolutely
silent as he held a small micro-recorder up to her lips and she spoke the
words he had known were coming.

"Y..you win. I'm yours, just...just save me, please..."

He nodded, joy flooding his face.

"A verbal agreement! It's as binding as an actual contract and twice the
fun!"

As she slipped into unconsciousness she felt a respirator mask being fitted
over her nose and mouth and sweet oxygen flooded her lungs, bringing her back
from that terrible precipice.

Later, when she awoke she found that her clothing had been removed again and
she was now dressed in a simple white shift, so diaphanous as to appear
transparent. She yawned, stretching and noticed for the first time her
surroundings. She lay in a giant plush bed, fleece blankets adorning the top
and warm sunlight streaming in from a nearby window.

Rising, she walked to them, opening the shutters and gazing outside at the
brilliantly beautiful day. A cough from behind startled her and she whirled,
arms instinctively covering her breasts. Across the room in a chair sat the
man who had kidnapped her. He was sitting upright, a bandage on his forehead
and a blanket in his lap. To his right sat a steaming mug of some liquid and
a book that he had just laid down.

He coughed again, speaking finally.

"I'm glad you're awake. You gave me a bit of a scare there, it was close in
the end, very close."

"How long...?"

"Have you been asleep? Nearly two days dear. I removed the tainted clothing
as soon as possible and bathed you. The toxins were flushed from your system
as quickly as they could be, but it was still close."

She nodded, walking to the edge of the bed and sitting there, silently
watching this man who had nearly killed her.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? I have some water here, and I can have food brought
up within minutes. Anything you want, anything at all."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, that sounds good. Chicken soup
if you have it."

He stood, dropping the blanket on the chair and walked to her then, offering
the sealed water bottle to her. Timidly she took it, unscrewing the cap and
drinking deeply as he called down to the kitchen, directing them to make the
food and bring it up when ready. Briefly she wondered how many he had serving
him here, even as he turned back to the chair and sat, wincing, pain evident
on his features.

"Your hurt."

It was more a statement than a question and he smiled wryly in his response.

"Yes, you did quite a number on me there. If I hadn't used the drug, I don't
think I would have won."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them then, with her frowning at
the floor, lost in her thoughts. His voice shattered her reverie.

"Trish...you do remember your agreement, don't you?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opening them, rose from the bed.
Slowly she walked across the room to where he sat, sinking slowly to her
knees before him. Her eyes dropped to the floor, then rose to meet his
own, burning with a sensual passionate light. Her voice, low and sultry,
caressed his ears.

"What is thy wish of me Master?"

His grin widened perceptibly as her hands reached for his trousers freeing
his aching cock from it's confines, and she bent her head to her task,
beginning her life in servitude...